


It Was Only a Fish

by Plus1STR



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Femslash, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plus1STR/pseuds/Plus1STR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'You're a vet and i'm pleading with you to save my goldfish and you're the first vet I've visited to not ask me if i'm sure i don't want to go and buy another goldfish for three dollars' au" requested by anonymous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Only a Fish

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Era Só um Peixe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391740) by [Rosetta (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Rosetta)



“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for your fish…” Peggy trailed off and pulled up the patient chart, scanning through the information or lack thereof. The nurse that jotted down the details likely hadn’t taken it seriously. Peggy had a strict “every patient is a priority” policy, but she couldn’t entirely blame Thompson for not paying better attention— the patient was a goldfish after all.

“Hamlet. His name is Hamlet.”

“Hamlet, right. Sorry.” Peggy set the chart down, leaning against her palms on the observation table as she peered into the portable tank. The poor little guy swam in disjointed, languid circles, sinking further and further down to the bottom of the tank every few minutes or so before trying to kick itself back up. There was no possible way the fish would survive for very much longer. But every time Peggy looked at the shimmering turquoise eyes in front of her, the words fell flat. The woman already looked heartbroken without hearing her fish was most definitely going to need to be flushed.

Peggy grabbed the box of tissues behind her and offered it to the sniffling woman.

“Thanks you.”

“Of course, Miss…” Peggy took a quick glance at the chart again— at least Thompson had the decency to write down her name. “Martinelli.”

“Angie,” she replied between sniffles.

Peggy offered her a soft smile before another attempt at breaking the news. “Angie, I’m truly terribly sorry, but there isn’t anything to be done.”

Angie dabbed under her nose with her tissue and ran her knuckle under an eye to catch a stray tear. “It’s just that I’ve had Hamlet for five years. He was this real sad looking, itty bitty carnival goldfish. Like the ones you win playing the ring toss, y’know? Everyone said he wouldn’t survive a month, but here he is now. Years later and an impromptu move to New York in between.” Angie smiled down sadly at her aquatic friend.

Peggy gave Angie’s freehand a reassuring squeeze. The two watched Hamlet start to sink slowly to the bottom of the fiber glass hold again.

“You sure there’s nothing you can do? Nothing at all?”

Peggy’s nails tapped against the table as thoughtful expression overtook her features; there was absolutely nothing she could do for Angie’s fish— that she was certain of— but Angie didn’t need to hear it again.

“One moment.”

She turned to the counter behind her, fiddling with a few cups and containers. Once she was certain Angie couldn’t calculate between her movements or see beyond her back, Peggy filled an empty syringe with plain water. She faced Angie again, syringe in hand.

“What’s that?”

“Dihydrogen monoxide. It won’t do anything special, but it won’t hurt either.” Peggy waited for Angie’s nod of approval before injecting the syringe’s contents into the portable tank.

“Every vet I’ve been to has told me to just get a new goldfish for like three bucks at the pet store. But he’s mine. I can’t just get a new one.”

“Our pets affect us all in different ways. Even the little ones.”

“Thanks, doc.” Angie scooped the tank into her arms.

Sure enough, three days later, Hamlet went belly up and Angie gave him a backyard burial— she couldn’t have possibly flushed her beloved goldfish. Two weeks later and Dottie, Angie’s roommate, all but tossed her out of the house.

“It’s been two weeks, hun. You’ve gotta move on.”

“But Hamlet deserved a better death than that.”

“Angie, it was a fish. A goldfish.”

“But he was **my** goldfish.”

“Ang, you’re going out and you’re gonna go outside. Maybe go to the pet store and you’re gonna get another pet. No if’s, an’s, or but’s about it.” Dottie pushed Angie along to the front door, giving her a nudge out of the house.

“You never used to be this pushy, Iowa.”

“You rubbed off on me.” Dottie winked as she tossed Angie her purse and shoved the house keys into her hands. “Make sure you come back with a smile!”

And that is precisely how Angie found herself in the back of a pet store, longingly looking over all of the various fish. At least, she was until a flash of dark fur tackled her onto the ground in a frenzy of excited licks to the face.

“Bucky, heel!”

The dog stopped for a moment, hovering over Angie, and gave a playful bark before delivering another onslaught of licks and friendly yapping. Angie sat up, hugging the husky all the while giggling and petting him as he squirmed about wagging his tail back and forth.

“Hey there, big guy.”

“Bucky.” The voice called again, rushing over to the pair on the ground. The dog padded back over to his owner, sitting obediently beside her leg.

“I’m terribly sorry. He’s never done that before. He’s usually so disinterested in people. Here, let me...” She extended her hand to Angie. “Oh. Hello again, Angie.”

Angie took the offered hand and gratefully allowed Peggy to help her up.

“Hi, doc.”

“Please, call me Peggy. It only seems appropriate now that Bucky has covered you in saliva.”

“Peggy, right. Don’t worry about the drool.” Angie wiped at her face with her sleeve, well, Dottie’s sleeve— she should really stop stealing Dottie’s clothes. “I think I needed it.”

Peggy took a good look at her surroundings, realizing she chased her dog all the way to the other side of the store. “Were you hoping to get a fish?”

“I… I don’t really know. My roommate got tired of me moping around the house and my feet sort of just dragged me here.”

Peggy tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “Would you perhaps care for some help?”

“I don’t wanna trouble ya.”

“It’s no trouble, really. I’m just here for a chew toy. This one here managed to rip the last one in half.” The dog in question looked up at Peggy; if there were a competition for smug animals, Bucky would go home with gold. “Had the nerve to look offended when it fell apart as if I had something to do with it.”

Bucky grumbled in response and Peggy patted his head softly. “Yes, yes. I do suppose it was my fault for getting you something that looked like a squirrel…”

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full, English.” Angie smiled at the back and forth between the two.

“Oh no, he’s a sweetheart most of the time.” Peggy shifted her weight on her feet, swaying awkwardly. “I was going to take him for a walk afterwards, if you’d care for some company. I’ll buy you coffee as well if you’d like.”

Bucky tip toed behind Angie, pushing his nose against the back of her legs.

“I think your dog’s already decided for me.” Angie giggled, taking a few guided steps.

“I did say most of the time.” Peggy held the door open for Angie and her troublemaking companion.

“Say, Peggy, you never told me what Dihydrogen monoxide is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a title, but then I started humming Mr. Brightside, so that title happened.


End file.
